Five Reasons Why Peace in Ukraine Only Comes Through Strength

Russia’s war on Ukraine didn’t start with a diplomatic dispute but with the illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014, followed by hostilities in two Ukrainian regions in the East. Nearly eight years of negotiations, during which Ukraine received almost no military aid, culminated in a full-scale invasion. Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s memoirs are illustrative: she admitted to refusing Ukraine’s NATO membership to avoid provoking war. Her efforts failed.

As the world once again debates potential peace talks between Ukraine and Russia, the events of 2014 prove that negotiations with the Kremlin only succeed when backed by strength. Trump echoes this stance. Moscow understands strength—and it must be confronted accordingly. Here are five reasons why strength is the only language that works at the negotiating table.

Russia’s war economy

Russia has transitioned to a wartime economy reminiscent of the Soviet Union. Its 2025 budget allocates 40%—around $142 billion—to military expenditures, equating to 8% of its GDP. For comparison, many NATO countries still fail to meet their self-imposed 2% GDP defense spending benchmark—Russia’s military budget trails only that of the US and China, the world’s largest economies.

The Kremlin has slashed spending across other sectors, including social programs, and allowed the ruble to depreciate by over 50% in three years. High inflation and soaring interest rates are tolerated in pursuit of military objectives.

By its budget and domestic policies, Russia signals a clear 2025 goal: war. For now, that war is confined to Ukraine.

Hybrid warfare across Europe

In December 2024, tensions flared in the Baltic Sea. Energy and communication cables in the Gulf of Finland were severed, causing months of disruptions. Suspicions point to Russia and its shadow fleet working for the Kremlin.

While the physical war rages in Ukraine, its hybrid counterpart unfolds across Europe: cyberattacks, espionage, sabotage of railways and energy infrastructure. This includes spoofing, mysterious drones over European military bases, assassination attempts on European business figures, and even Russian missiles and drones falling in Poland, Romania, and Moldova.

Hybrid warfare is Europe’s current reality. Russian officials openly claim the right to strike Poland or the UK, and after the launch of the Sarmat intercontinental ballistic missile system, Russian media shared infographics showing how it could target any European capital. The war is already here—even without boots on the ground.

Moscow’s military-industrial complex

Russia currently leads the world in tank production, manufactures dozens of cruise and ballistic missiles monthly, and produces Shahed drones at twice their planned rate. In December 2024, the Russian Navy received a new submarine capable of carrying nuclear-armed missiles. These developments are not for defense but for aggression.

New production lines and factories are being built, and military enterprise employees are working around the clock in three shifts. The defense industry is now one of Russia’s largest employers, and the nation’s economy is focused on financing and expanding it.

Russia’s united army and society

Infantry is the backbone of any military, and Ukraine estimates that Russia has deployed up to 800,000 troops—more than the combined forces of Europe’s largest armies.

To sustain this manpower, Russia is increasing recruitment payouts, draining entire regions of their population to feed the war effort. In 2024 alone, Russian casualties surpassed 30,000 killed or wounded each month, peaking at over 40,000 by year’s end. The assault on Avdiivka in the Donetsk region involved 120,000 troops, with 50,000 suffering irrecoverable losses. A new offensive on Pokrovsk is now involving 70,000 Russian soldiers.

Despite these losses, there are no protests in Moscow or St. Petersburg. Instead, many Russians are complacent. Substantial payouts are transforming impoverished regions, where families of fallen soldiers receive up to $150,000—an impossible sum to earn in many parts of Russia.

This societal silence is purchased at the cost of Ukrainian cities razed, villages burned, and lives destroyed. Substitute Ukraine with any other country, and Russia’s methods would remain the same.

This vast military force operates with impunity: executing prisoners of war on camera, torturing detainees in Russian prisons, looting Ukrainian cities, and abducting children. If these soldiers return to Russia, how will they reintegrate? Or will Russia even want them back?

Global militarization

Four countries—Russia, Belarus, Iran, and North Korea—are already fighting against Ukraine. North Korea alone has reportedly sent over 12,000 troops. Russia’s actions serve as an example for authoritarian regimes worldwide: war is possible.

The West’s slow sanctions, reluctance to provide weapons, and fear of imaginary red lines embolden dictators. Kremlin actions force global militarization. While Europe is considering raising defense spending to 3% of GDP, Russia transfers military technology to North Korea and Iran, increasing the global arms supply.

For years, the world tried to negotiate with the Kremlin, offering concessions. It was somehow believed that Moscow—first as an empire that once conquered the world, and later as the Soviet Union continuing that policy—deserved accommodation. Yet, it doesn’t work. Only strong actions against Russia do.

The late 1980s hold a lesson. The Soviet Union, economically crippled, signed the INF Treaty because it couldn’t compete militarily with the US The Berlin Wall fell without bloodshed, Ukraine and the Baltics were freed, and Yeltsin conceded to the West because Russia had nothing to counter with. Strength prevailed.

The lesson still stands: Moscow only understands strength.